


That's Not My Name

by bedheadb0y (orphan_account)



Category: Newsies, Newsies (1992), newsies movie - Fandom
Genre: 1899, Abuse, Angst, Bad Parents, Childhood abandonment, Dark Thoughts, Depression, Dysphoria, F/M, FTM, Flashbacks, Gender Dysphoria, Homophobia, M/M, Negative Thoughts, Possible gay relationship, Swearing, Trans FtM, Trans Jack Kelly, Transgender, Transphobia, also, and if something like that digusts you, angsty, childhood flashbacks, especially for someone living in 1899, im sorry, jack kelly is confused, mlm, or leave, periods are valid, possible mlm, self degradation, self hatred, so it might be more accurate than other fics, so please don't judge, something that we can't control, then get over it, this is my first a03 fic, this is written by an actual trans person, trans periods are valid, use of f and t slur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/bedheadb0y
Summary: "No, Mom!" He screamed, tears in his eyes as he clutched the scissors in his hands, clumps of hair scattered around the floor. "I'm a boy!" He yelled as the tears fell, some falling to the floor while others slowly rolled down his cheeks. "I'm a boy, Mom!! My name is Ja-" Suddenly, there was a loud slap that echoed the room. Jack was silent. Scissors clattered to the floor as the young boy dropped them, out of pure shock. He held his hand to his cheek, looking up at his mother. His lip quivered. "You'll never be my son." His mother spat.
Kudos: 7





	That's Not My Name

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! so this is indeed my first fic in a03, as well as my first newsies fic! this will mostly follow the story of the newsies movie (available on disney+!!), with some backstory/flashbacks here and there (i also will often drift away from the main plot or change up a scene a bit). btw, the beginning of this chapter is mostly a recap of the start of the movie, but please read it anyway, it's important!! i hope you enjoy; love you all!! :)))

_"No, Mom!" He screamed, tears in his eyes as he clutched the scissors in his hands, clumps of hair scattered around the floor. "I'm a boy!" He yelled as the tears fell, some falling to the floor while others slowly rolled down his cheeks. "I'm a boy, Mom!! My name is Ja-" Suddenly, there was a loud slap that echoed the room. Jack was silent._

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Jack woke up with a start, sitting up in bed as he looked around. So. He’d had that dream again. He let out a shaky breath, hanging his head as he looked down; his hands were shaking, though that was a common occurrence, as such with any of these hellish dreams he had almost every other night. He rubbed his eyes, looking out the window. It was dark outside - it’d be pitch black, if it weren’t for the single, tall street lamp, illuminating its surroundings; everything within a 6 feet radius. Jack turned his attention back to all the sleeping boys surrounding him. He huffed, flopping back down on his bed as he squeezed his eyes shut, rolling onto his side as he desperately tried to get some sleep. His muscles relaxed, and soon he was fast asleep once again.

__

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**Cowboy.**  
**Hey, Cowboy.**  
**You dreamin’ about selling papers?**  
**…**  
**Hey, hey, hey.**

__

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Jack stirred, as he was being hit lightly by someone. He groaned softly as a frown slipped onto his face. He rolled onto his side, eyes squeezed shut; he obviously didn’t want to wake up right now. “Don’t want to...what’s the matter with you,” He mumbled sleepily. The old man scoffed slightly. “What’s the matter with _me?_ ” He replied back as he watched Jack open his eyes, who was clearly annoyed. “What’sa matter with you?” He repeated as the man continued to try and get him to get ready for the day. “I ain’t sellin’ any of your, ugh- get off my back,” He mumbled. The man playfully pushed him as Jack opened his eyes fully. “Hey, go away from me! You’re mad!” He protested. “C’mon, kid!” The old man laughed as Jack started to push him playfully as well. A smile spread onto Jack’s face as he sat up and the man walked away, moving onto the next young boy to pester until he woke up. Jack looked around as he heard a small clash, his eyes finding Racetrack, who had a slight scowl on his face as he searched through his stuff, throwing items everywhere. He smiled slightly as he watched him realize that Snipeshooter had it, chuckling to himself as he listened to them bicker to each other as he got out of bed. He sighed, quickly slipping on some pants as he had only worn boxer shorts the previous night. He hopped over to the doorway of the large room, buttoning up his pants. He flinched slightly as he felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up, only to see Mush. He sighed, looking back down to focus on simply zipping up his pants now. “How’d ya sleep, Jack?” He asked. “On me back, Mush.” He answered plainly. Mush laughed, turning to everyone else “ _Hear that_ , fellas? Hear what Jack said?” He said, punching Jack lightly and playfully. “I asked Jack how he slept and he said, ‘On me back, Mush’!” He said, laughing as he walked away. Jack smiled slightly, turning as he immediately recognized a different voice speaking to him - Crutchie. “Hey Jack…? When I walk, does it look like I’m faking it?” He asked. Jack frowned, shaking his head as he slung his arm around Crutchie’s shoulder, walking over to the wash area with him. “No, who says you’re fakin’ it?” He asked, a hint of concern in his voice. He hated it when people accused him of faking it, it aggravated him to his core. “I don’t know. It’s just- there’s so many fake crips on the street today...a real crip ain’t got a chance.” He said as Jack retracted his arm from his shoulder, applying shaving paste to his face - though he knew it did nothing; there was no use of it for him. Crutchie sighed. “I gotta find me a new sellin’ spot where they’re not used to seein’ me.” He said. Mush joined in on the conversation, uninvited. “Try Bottle Alley. Or the harbour.” He suggested from the other side of the sinks. “Try Central Park. S’ guaranteed.” Racetrack added. Jack dipped his shaving brush into the bowl, flinging some paste onto Mush, which immediately got a laugh out of Racetrack and Crutchie, both looking at Mush’s shocked face as Jack smiled, who walked away to wash his face. After he was done, he raised his head up, chuckling softly as he watched some boys tease Racetrack, who was desperately asking for a towel while there was soap in his eyes. He shook his head, walking out of the room to throw on a button up and some suspenders, hanging a red tie loosely around his neck as other boys quickly got dressed around him. He sighed; wishing he could change in front of them. Not in a weird way, he just- he wished he could walk around shirtless. Sure, he was lucky to have been born with such a flat chest, but he still had his insecurities. He sighed, ruffling his hair slightly as he joined the other boys, walking out of the room and running down the stairs with everyone else, excited for a new day as always. 

__

Once the group had reached the headline board, everyone groaned. “You call _that_ a headline?” One of the boys commented. Jack shook his head. “Don’t worry guys, we can sell anything.” He reassured the group. “We’re the newsies, for christ’s sake.” He said, and the group smiled, some nudging Jack playfully as they all began to strike up conversations with one another. Suddenly, two boys began pushing through the crowd as everyone grew quiet. “Dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma?” Racetrack said, who was at the front of the group, along with Crutchie and Jack. “I fear the sewer may have backed up during the night.” Everyone laughed. “Nah, too rotten to be the sewers.” Boots replied, sneering at the two boys. “Yeah, yeah. It must be... _the Delancey brothers_.” Crutchie said snarkily, causing everyone to burst out laughing. The boys grit their teeth, walking up to the group in the front. “Hiya, boys.” Racetrack greeted. One of the boys smiled back sarcastically, turning to one of the younger, shorter boys. “In the back, you lousy little shrimp.” He growled, pushing him to the ground. The group groaned, some protesting at the action. Jack walked over and helped the boy stand up of course, walking back over to face the two brothers. “Ya shouldn’t be calling people lousy little shrimps, Oscar, unless you’re referring to the family resemblance in your brother here,” He replied, pointing at the both of them. The group “oooooh”ed, as Jack walked over to the other brother. “That’s right, it’s an insult.” He said. “So is this.” He said, reaching up and taking his hat, before bolting away as quick as possible. He punched both of them, the group of newsies cheering him on. He ran away towards the square’s statue, accidentally bumping into someone. The stranger looked at him, a slight hint of curiosity in his expression. “Whaddaya doin?” He asked. Jack looked behind the stranger, watching as the brother got up and started running over to him. Jack smiled. “Runnin’.” He replied, before taking off. He looked behind him, laughing as he ran down the city streets. The group of newsies all too easily fell behind, as it was just Jack running now. He ended up in an alleyway, turning to face the pair of boys with a smirk on his face. “Give me all you got,” He teased as Oscar approached him, to which Jack punched him in the stomach. Oscar recovered all too quickly, punching Jack in the gut. He doubled over; jesus, why did that hurt so much? He thought to himself. He tried to get up, though Oscar’s brother now walked over, kicking him in the chest. Jack fell back, trying to get up but failing once again as the brothers started to kick and punch Jack until they were satisfied. After a bit they walked away, Oscar snatching his brother’s hat and handing it to him as they left Jack Kelly to sit in pain in the alleyway. He scooted over to the wall, groaning as he held his stomach. Why was he getting cramps all of a sudden? He laid there for a few minutes, now having completely given up on trying to stand up. His crotch felt somewhat warm, though he ignored it. Either it was just really hot today or he’d pissed his pants - embarrassing. He then started to hear distant tapping nearby; his head perked up as he saw Crutchie at the end of the alleyway after a few moments. Crutchie spotted Jack, hobbling over to him. “ _Jesus_ , Jack, what happened?” He asked, obviously concerned as he bent down, cupping Jack’s cheek and examining his wounds. Jack groaned. “Well, I fucking lost the fight, if that’s what you’re asking.” He replied. Crutchie sighed, his eyebrows knitted as he backed away slightly to look at any other wounds. “Oh my god, Jack, you’re bleeding!” He said, his eyes widening. “No shit,” Jack replied, trying to sit up more; straight. “No, like- really badly!” He said, pointing at the other’s crotch. Jack looked down. “Oh shit, I didn’t even notice.” He said, now noticing the giant patch of blood that had soaked through his pants. He didn't recall getting hit or kicked there, and it didn't hurt in the slighest, which was odd. Crutchie sighed worriedly, helping Jack stand up as the pair hobbled over to an empty building nearby so Crutchie could examine his wounds in a more private area. Once Jack had sat down, the other threw his cane aside, bending down and leaning in as he began to tug at Jack’s pants, in order to take it off and see where the ‘wound’ was. Jack flinched, pushing Crutchie’s arms away. “I-I’m really fine, Crutchie.” he said, his voice quickly becoming shaky. He knew the others had seen him in his boxer shorts, but if this escalated...he didn’t want anyone to know. No one could know. Crutchie tsked, “Jack, c’mon, ya don’t have to be embarrassed.” He said, pulling down his pants. Jack froze. Crutchie looked at the giant red patch in his boxer shorts. “Did they kick you right in the balls or something?” Crutchie asked, trying his best to make a joke while Jack was in such excruciating pain. He began to pull at the hem of the shorts, and Jack grabbed Crutchie’s arms. “Crutchie, _don’t_.” He said nervously. “ _Please_.” He whispered, though it was inaudible. Crutchie shook his head. “Hey man, don’t worry. I’ve seen ‘em before. I mean, we share one big bathroom together, ya know? S’ inevitable.” He said, trying his best to calm Jack down. Jack tried to protest further but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything. He was frozen. He couldn’t move; couldn’t speak. He watched in horror as Crutchie pulled his boxers down, only to reveal...well, not a penis. Crutchie’s eyes widened as he stumbled back, falling on his bum. “J-Jack...” He stuttered out in disbelief. Jack stared back at him, horrified.

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End file.
